


Beautiful Fulfillment

by vampgirl999



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/F, Gender Identity, Hurt/Comfort, some transphobia mentioned, supportive lover
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-21
Updated: 2015-12-21
Packaged: 2018-05-08 03:01:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,888
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5480828
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vampgirl999/pseuds/vampgirl999
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Josephine encourages her beloved to join her at a party, and unknowingly helps her in the process.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Beautiful Fulfillment

**Author's Note:**

> Elena is the elder sibling of my Inquisitor Trevelyan, so technically an OC.

     It had been Leliana who told her where she had gone off to.

     “Josephine?” Elena Trevelyan rapped her knuckles against the ambassador’s door. Even through the thick wood she could hear what sounded like a thump, and a string of what she guessed to be Antivan curses. Amused, the former Templar braced herself and risked opening the door.

     “Josie?”

     In the few times Elena had been within her girlfriend’s quarters, she had always noticed the woman’s sense for cleanliness. The covers of her bed were always smoothed and creased, the wood furniture newly polished, and the floors freshly swept. She vaguely wondered if Josephine did the cleaning herself between jobs – unlikely, but the ambassador held a knack for cramming too many things into too short a day – or had bribed one of the servants. Another, darker thought edged in, a question of whether or not she went this far for the sake of Skyhold’s guests.

     Regardless, all those thoughts when flying out the window as she stepped into the room, and shut the door behind her.  
It looked as if a great wind had blown about the room. Or a very crazed, very fashionable animal. Dresses of all colors, cut, and styles formed a pile on the bed, hiding it from view. Several pairs of heels, sandals, slippers, and flats were strewn hazardously about the room, looking as if they’d been grabbed and carelessly tossed aside. Judging by the open jars and tipped over vials of make-up – and the frenzied look Josephine currently wore as she hurried over – Elena suspected they had.

     “I’m so sorry _amado_ , but I don’t have time for us to spend together today.” Elena couldn’t help but get a bit distracted – Templar training hadn’t prepared her for that hypnotic Antivan lilt, or the gorgeous dress she was currently wearing. Dark gold – darker than what she usually wore – and belted by a ribbon-like dark blue sash with the ends trailing against her corseted front, and the skirt of the gown spread about her, soft fabric giving way to an intricate layer of lace. The sleeves puffed up near the forearm, only to be flattened out once more into an almost orange color, sewn with a design Elena couldn’t place. Shamelessly, she allowed her gaze to roam over Josephine’s tanned shoulders, suddenly overcome with an urge to graze her lips against the exposed collarbone.

     “…lena….Elena!” The eldest Trevelyan snapped to attention.

     “Yes, love?” Josephine shook her head, smiling a bit.

     “If you are just going to stand there staring at me, then perhaps you can help me finish getting ready?” Her tone made it less of a request than a command. Minutes later, Elena was on her hands and knees beside the vanity, searching for a stray ruby earring which had fallen while Josephine finished her make-up above her. Not that she needed it, in Elena’s opinion. The Ambassador was beautiful, even without it.

     “So you’ve been locked in your room all morning just to prepare for some party?” Something sparkled nearby, and she picked it up, only to make a frustrated sound. Another clot of silverdust powder.

     “Lady Monteford is a second cousin to Empress Celene and a formerly known supporter of Divine Justinia. Her good word alone could benefit the Inquisition, not to mention her political and mercantile connections.” She paused, and added “Even if your family are of a lower house, the Trevelyans are still nobility, so why are you acting so surprised?”

     “You’ve met Talia, getting her into a dress and her hair up was a battle all its own. My mother was always playing the perfect hostess and I…” She paused, then spoke again, more quietly than before. “I didn’t begin transitioning until just before I joined the Templars.”

     A silence fell between them as Josephine absorbed this information, broken only by a shifting sound as Elena resorted to sliding her hand against the floor to find the damned earring.

     “Shouldn’t be this hard to find one spot of red against gray.” Elena grumbled to herself. Her finger suddenly pricked something, startling her, and she reflexively jerked, slamming her head against the bottom of the vanity.

     “Andraste’s divine ass!” The warrior half-shouted in pain. Nursing what was sure to be a bump later, she examined what was stuck in her hand and pulled it out, cleaning it off on her shirt before reaching up to drop it onto the vanity table. “Found your earring.”

     Josephine absentmindedly picked it up, but hesitated before putting it, cradling the small bit of jewelry in her hands.

     “Why not come with me? I’m certain Lady Monteford wouldn’t object to me bringing a guest.” She suddenly asked.

     “No.” Elena got to her feet, brushing off her clothes.

     “Why not? You said it yourself, you’ve never had the chance to dress up since you became a Templar. Why not now?”

     “I promised Cullen I’d help the Templars train the recruits. We thought it might put them at ease to have one who wasn’t exposed to any red lyrium helping out.” She wouldn’t look at Josephine, and a quick glance at her fingers showed she was flexing them – an old habit from when she needed a lyrium fix and was trying to hide it. Around Josephine, it usually meant something was bothering her. She turned and grasped her lover’s hand.

     “Elena, tell me what’s wrong. Please.” Josephine was careful to keep her tone relaxed and neutral. Elena struggled to trust people as she did her family or Josephine, even more so considering her need to keep her initial transition a secret when she had joined the Templars. She had confessed to Josephine that while her body was now much closer to what it should have been from the beginning, there was a part of her former self she hadn’t been able to find a way to get rid of – something which would be impossible to hide. She’d hid it as long as possible, until one of her fellow Templars walked in on her bathing, and discovered her secret, revealing it to the others. Between that, and her leniency toward mages due to her own brother being one, Elena had been fairly isolated among her peers. She had insisted it was fine, that she had joined the Templars because she enjoyed the training and the discipline, not to make friends, but Josephine had still felt furious when she heard the story. That same anger coiled in her belly once more at Elena’s next words.

     “I do not wish to cause unnecessary trouble for the Inquisition. This, what I am…” The dark haired woman gestured to her body with a deep sigh. “Amongst nobility, it’s something to be hidden. A taboo which should never be spoken of, preferably involving the guilty party placed somewhere away and out of sight.”

     “There is _**nothing**_ wrong with you.” Josephine insisted. Elena offered her a small smile and reached out to cover her hand with her own, squeezing softly.

     “I know that, and you know that. Maker, all of our friends know that. But you know how nobles get. I can’t risk the Inquisition’s name for my pride, even though I know you and Talia would gladly do so.”

     She was right, unfortunately. Even if there never was a scandal, the threat alone is what could cause trouble, and given their meager amount of allies at the moment, they couldn’t afford that. Talia Trevelyan would lead an armed guard after anyone who so much as uttered a word of insult toward her elder sister, which was a guaranteed way to send their entire cause to the Void.

     “I understand.” Even if she didn’t like it.

     “Thank you.” Elena’s smile didn’t quite reach her eyes, but it improved as she lifted Josephine’s hand up, brushing her lips against the knuckles. Josephine would kill her if she messed up her make-up, but she indulged a forehead kiss as well. “Until a later time, Lady Montilyet.” Elena strode for the door, then paused.

     “Oh, and incase my earlier reaction wasn’t sufficient – you look absolutely glorious in that dress.” This time her smile appeared more genuine, and Josephine blushed as she left, though her mind was abuzz with numerous thoughts.

 

\-------

 

     Weeks later, yet another party was to take place in Orlais. This time, however, the Inquisition was able to relax a bit. The hostess of the party was a Tevinter magister, and had come all the way to Orlais simply for their sake, something which normally would have put the group – Dorian especially – on edge. However, this one, a human woman by the name of Maevaris Tilani, was both a friend and family member of Varric, having married his cousin Thorold some time ago. Maevaris insisted that the party was to be a sign of her good will toward the Inquisition, but Josephine couldn’t resist the idea of the potential contacts and agreements which could also be made in the process. Saving Talia the “horror” (the Inquisitor’s implication) of having to attend a party in favor of dragon-slaying, red lyrium destruction, and whatever else they did while exploring the lands, Josephine offered to go in her stead with an offer of apology, excusing the Inquisitor’s absence as a result of “grave matters” suddenly taking place. Provided, of course, that she could take Varric and Elena along with her “for protection”.

     Josephine had persuaded Varric into taking Elena out for a few hours, whilst she and Maevaris planned in secret. The two women had hit it off shortly after meeting, and after explaining her problem, the magister had proven to be more invaluable in her help than the ambassador could have ever hoped. Taking to the Orlesian markets – and cashing in a few favors – they soon had everything set up and prepared in Josephine’s quarters. Maevaris had left before Varric and Elena had returned, but had promptly wished the Antivan woman good luck before leaving, smiling and winking as she did so.

     Now, as she touched up on the final details and fidgeted with her hair, she felt a bundle of nerves constricting in her chest, making it difficult to breathe. There was no telling how Elena would react. She’d have to be firm in her intentions, but at the same time didn’t want to push her love into something she wasn’t comfortable doing. Forcing herself to take a deep breath, she relaxed.

     “Josephine?” Elena’s voice came somewhat muffled through the thick wood of the door. “May I come in?”

     “It’s open!” She called back, and smiled when she noticed how she looked about the room, as if scanning for a threat. Some habits never die, she noted with amusement. Then the nerves took her once more. “Your outfit is on the bed.” She informed her.

     Josephine didn’t breathe, didn’t move as Elena walked over. She saw her beloved’s brow furrow, confusion flickering in the dark violet irises. Then, a flicker of understanding.

     “Where’s my dress uniform?” Her voice was quiet. Josephine moved to stand behind her, reaching out to lightly touch her shoulder.

     “Back at Skyhold.” Elena turned to face her, and she gently grasped her arms, willing her to listen for just a few moments longer. “Tonight, you are not Ser Trevelyan, former Templar of the Inquisition. You are Lady Elena, and you will be acting as my escort, as our hostess is expecting.” In truth, Maevaris had been told to prepare incase Elena refused, but she didn’t need to know that right now.

     “Josephine…” A single tanned finger against her lips hushed her.

     “I know you’re frightened. I am too.” Josephine admitted. “But we cannot run from fear forever.”

     A smirk appeared behind her finger, prompting her to move it. “You’ve really got to stop listening to me.”

     “The opposite would benefit you as well.” The ambassador retorted, but then became serious. “If you are truly uncomfortable with this, I will not push you.”

     “No.” Elena shook her head, and suddenly grasped Josephine’s hands. She allowed her the support, secretly delighting in how her thumbs brushed against her skin. “You’re right, I can’t – shouldn’t keep avoiding the inevitable.” The former Templar bit her lip, a nervous action that she found absolutely adorable.

     “Will you help me?” She smiled, and leaned forward to kiss her.

     “Of course I will.”

     Within the next few hours, the party grew closer, and the two nearly finished getting ready. Josephine had donned a dress similar to the last one Elena had seen her in – being seen in the same dress in such a short time simply wasn’t done – shyly remarking that she had enjoyed seeing her beloved’s reaction and hoped to see it again. Getting Elena into a corset had been both the most amusing and most time consuming part of getting ready, considering the noblewoman had never worn one before, and as such had to be guided on when to breathe and when to suck in as Josephine tightened the strings. The dress she and Maevaris had chosen for her was of dark blue velvet which complimented her eyes, and left her shoulders bare, something Elena had been apprehensive about given their size. But Josephine brushed it off, insisting that once she donned the necklace of gold and silverite she had chosen for her, nobody would even notice. She pulled her long black hair into an elaborate braid, and half-bullied her into wearing a pair of dangling earrings, insisting they would match perfectly with her necklace. Applying a wine red lipstick, some mascara, and a bit of rouge to add some contrast to her suntanned cheeks, then slipping on a pair of fine heels, she was ready.

     “How do I look?” Josephine smiled, and moved her to face a mirror.

     “See for yourself, _mi amor_.”

     Elena’s breath caught. Staring at the reflection looking back at her, her reflection… she could scarcely believe it. Shaking fingers reached up to numbly touch the cool glass. She didn’t recognize herself.

     “You’re beautiful.” Josephine whispered into her ear from behind, and for once the words rang true. Hot tears suddenly formed and fell, streaking Elena’s cheeks with their salty wetness.

     “Oh, Elena…” Warm, strong arms encased her body, holding her as her head ducked and more tears fell.

     “I’m sorry.” She shook slightly, a hand coming to her head as if to physically hold off anymore tears. Her voice was rough, raw with emotion.

     “I’m sorry,” She repeated, and sniffled. Taking a deep breath, she spoke again, a bit more clearly. “I just… I’ve never felt feminine. Not physically. And it killed me, never seeming to match what I felt on the inside. And then I met you, and I just…” She stopped, seeming to shake her head at something before at last looking up. Her eyes, wet and strong, locked with Josephine’s.

     “Ever since we’ve been together, I’ve felt like some empty part of me was suddenly filled again. You make me feel more like a woman than anything else in this world, and have always accepted me as such. I love you, Josephine Montilyet. I love you.”

     Josephine blinked back tears of her own at the confession. Leaning down, she softly kissed Elena’s shoulder, reaching over to squeeze her hand. “I love you too. I am so glad to have met you.”

     “As am I.” Smiling now, Elena reached up to brush her tears away, adding with a small laugh “I think I messed up your make-up job.”

     Shaking her head with a chuckle, Josephine grabbed a spare handkerchief and went to wet it. “I’ll take care of it.”

 

\-------

 

     The party went well. While Elena felt a rush of anxiety each time Josephine was called away from her to speak with another noble – and even more so when she believed to have recognized a few from her parents’ parties – that was soon chased away by the arrival of Varric. Dressed in dwarven finery rather than his leather duster (a strange sight in itself), he complimented her dress and then gallantly bowed, asking her for a dance. Smiling with relief, she accepted, soon laughing as he reminded her to watch herself, as “Orlesian nobles were drawn to fear like beasts to blood”. It was certainly true, but imagining the intimidating figures as common beasts – like an irritated nug – was amusing enough. Between the few dances and the several conversations with both him and their hostess, she soon gained enough courage to mingle on her own, thankfully slipping back into the proper mannerisms and decorum drilled into her since she was old enough to talk.She received several compliments, and even a few leering gazes, some of which thankfully ended with a polite turn-down. Those that didn’t, quickly made themselves scarce after she danced with Josephine and kissed her, much to the Antivan woman’s embarrassment. She’d deal with the consequences later, she promised.

     At the end of the night, they retired to Josephine’s quarters. Between removing each other’s jewelry, pins, and dresses, they kissed, again and again until they found themselves on her bed. They wouldn’t make love, not after such an exhaustive night, but as Elena held Josephine in her arms, she whispered softly to her under the cover of darkness.

     “Thank you. For your love, and for giving me the courage to step out again.”

     Josephine just smiled, and kissed her.


End file.
